The Americans Arrive - followed by snowdrops, catkins...

Weeks have gone by. Illness began on the way back from Wales, laid me low for a few days and then seemed to go away. Followed by a rush of inspiration, when I finished an article and started two different stories. Then I altered one of the stories into a mini film script, and applied for a Filmscript course. It wasn't accepted, but the process of writing it gave me ideas I hadn't had before and turned it into something quite different and exciting to work on. Now I have the option of turning it back into a very different story, with the new ideas, which incorporates possibly a dream sequence from the past, or...?

But the lurking infection returned, badly timed, for my son M and N his girlfriend were due to arrive from the US, and my flagging energy could not keep up with the capacity of the younglings to enjoy life with the exuberance that only they can express. It was an unforgettable week, though there were some casualties – B blacked out in the rose bushes, though recovered as soon as we had carried him inside, N got asthma and had to be taken to the doctor's, and both N and J, step-son, who decided to fly over from Amsterdam to help M celebrate his birthday, suffered from sprained ankles.


Son M and my daughter F, kept the Smith flag flying admirably. In between trips to the doctor and hospital, I managed to bake a chocolate cake for M's birthday, accompany them all to the theatre, and take a trip with M and N down Mary King's Close, underneath Edinburgh's High Street. This narrow street was badly affected by the last outbreak of the plague in the city, in 1645, and as tenants moved out, it became abandoned and was built over. Its spooky and deserted character has been embellished for the purposes of tourist attraction. It is also said to be haunted. You can read more about the ghost stories of Mary King's Close in Ron Halliday's Paranormal Scotland as well as plenty of other eerie and inexplicable tales.

The pic is of M and N strolling down the High Street in the company of the poet Robert Fergusson, who looks a little surprised to have their company but I can't help feeling that he's also beaming with delight.

After M and N flew back to the US, and J back to Amsterdam, I capitulated and went to the doctor's and took a course of antibiotics which finally, touch wood, seems to have returned me to health. Meanwhile the plants have started to grow, the snowdrops have appeared, and the other day I spied catkins dangling from the willow trees – at least I think they are willows.....

Later this week I'll be going back to Wales, to read at Shotton. The incomparable Onya Wick, are also billed to appear. I tried to upload a pic of them but sadly it didn't work.

Comments

Thank you for your helpful comment on mine! i have left you a reply on it.
i love the pic! Grown up M.. :-)
i hope you have another good time in Wales, but without getting stuck.
take some pics - ok?!
lots of love Txx